


A Crieff Beginning

by Youkai_Master



Series: The Origin of Martin Crieff [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Mycroft IS the British Government, Sherlock isn't a great dad but he tries, anxious baby Martin, johnlock if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youkai_Master/pseuds/Youkai_Master
Summary: When Mycroft is saddled with taking care of a baby distant cousin he gives the kid to Sherlock knowing that at least John will keep him from screwing up the boy too much. Various snapshots of the boy that grew up to be a pilot.





	A Crieff Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is something from a while back before the last several podcasts of Cabin Pressure were released but it still amuses me. The idea came from Benedict playing both Martin Crieff and Sherlock. It made way too much sense in my fangirl brain.
> 
> PS I am working on moving all of my fics over from my Fanfiction account and will be updating and editing all of that plus writing more here. Don't panic if you see this over there.

The tiny three, almost four, year old stood dressed in black before the large imposing manor house of the relative that he had been left with. A man whose face was irrelevant and faceless was leading him up the walkway and to the enormous door. His red hair was hanging miserably around him as he sniffled and walked along numbly. He looked up at the pudgy man in front of him and found himself overwhelmed with everything that had happened to him. He was led to a couch and the moment he sat down he had fallen asleep.

While the child slept Mycroft Holmes studied the child; gangly, thin, obviously exhausted. He had been through a lot and his ordeal still wasn’t over yet. As he was the British government in all intents and purposes he had neither the time or knowledge to care for a child. With no other relatives willing to take in the child that was his cousin so many times removed or something of that relation he had only one option. Even as he dialed the number he mentally cringed and wondered if the roof, food, and clothing was worth putting the child in the care of the owner of the ringing phone. But as the voice of the ex-army doctor answered his little brother’s phone he smiled and knew that right or wrong he didn’t have a choice.

“So that’s him is it?”

“Yes Sherlock and be nice. He’s been through a lot. What’s his name?”

Mycroft looked on with them and spoke in a low voice.

“His name is Martin Crieff. His parents were distant relatives. I can’t care for him and he has nowhere else to go.”

While they talked quietly Sherlock knelt down in front of the slumbering child and began to examine every inch of him.

“It’s amazing how similar they look isn’t it. Are you sure they were distant and not a little closer to home?”

“Quite. Now if you would, there is much to be done. Sherlock, you must remember that is a child and a very fragile one. I know very well that you can take care of his physical needs but do not break him.”

The addressed had yet to speak and was still staring at the child, seeing things only he could. At that moment the child stirred and wiped at his puffy red eyes, his freckles standing out against his white skin.

“Wha...” John knelt before him next to Sherlock.

“My name is John Watson and this is Sherlock Holms. We’re going to be taking care of you from now on. Would you like to go home?”

The child blinked, trying to process everything. He clearly didn’t had high stress situations well.

“Home, mister Watson?”

“Call me John and yes Martin, home.”

He was about to take the child’s hand when the consulting detective swiftly scooped the still drowsy child up into his arms and for but a brief second something John had rarely seen flashed across his face. Smiling a secretive smile of his own the doctor too stood up and followed his flatmate to the door. The elder of the two Holms appeared to have returned to his work but the reflection in the window of the glass showed a warm smile on his lips.

When the two returned to their flat they immediately put Martin in John’s old room and tucked him into bed. He slept soundly for a few hours until he cried out quietly and whimpered in his sleep. As John had run out to get some groceries Sherlock was left alone. At the child’s cries he rushed in and sat next to him. Hushing him gently he placed an arm around the small body humming quietly. The thrashing and whimpering calmed but the tiny Martin curled tight against him in his sleep and clutched tightly to the fabric of the clothing in his reach. When John came back five minutes later it was to find Sherlock smiling softly down at the clearly frightened child as he stroked the red locks.


End file.
